Memento Mori
by Exhile87
Summary: Remember that you are mortal. In the end, it all boils down to one simple fact - no one wants to die. LxT. Animeverse.
1. Edge of Desire

**A/N: This is the first part of a 2-chapter fic I had wanted to write ever since I finished watching the ToA anime a week or so ago. I love LukexTear to death and I've always wanted to write a story about them. Considering I have not played the game in years and I have a terrible memory, this story will be based predominantly on the anime. This chapter is set between the end of Episode 16 and the first quarter of Episode 17. I suppose it can be considered an AU of some sort, though the second chapter will mostly reflect this.**

**The title of this chapter is from one of John Mayer's songs; perfect for the nature of Part 1, and I also wanted a song sung by a male singer but possibly showing the point of view of Tear, just to be a little different.  
**

**I've proof-read this but do let me know if you spot any mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing!**

**

* * *

**

**Part One: Luke - Edge of Desire**

_Tear is going to die._

The thought numbs him as he stands by the edge of a humming fon machine, watching the gears turning slowly and subconsciously tracing the wisp of smoke as it comes out from a tiny port on the side and rises to the darkening sky. His hands are resting on a metal bar, his eyes unfocused and glassy. He blinks.

_Tear… is going to die._

Taking in a deep breath, Luke closes his eyes and runs a hand slowly in his crimson hair. There is a deep, sinking feeling in his heart—an uncomfortable ache, a twisting, invisible knife in his chest and lungs.

Tear is dying, and there is nothing he can do to save her. He hates the helplessness he feels, almost like that time with St. Binah, except that on this occasion, there is absolutely _nothing_ he can do to stop this. The doctor had been unable to provide a complete cure—"She must rest well. If it were up to me, I'd forbid her from going to any more Passage Rings, but I understand the nature of your mission, and… well…" The doctor had looked at Jade then, who merely stared back grimly and offered no further suggestions.

Luke swallows hard. If even Jade has no other ideas, then Tear's fate has been set. Had the Score predicted this, too?

_What can I do? _The words bounce around in his head, reverberating off the walls of his mind and intensifying the jittery, nagging feeling creeping up his spine to the back of his neck. _What can I do? Is there no hope at all?_

Frustration he is familiar with, but despair is not an emotion he is used to having. Like a floodgate bursting open from a torrent of water, he is suddenly filled with fury and anger towards their situation. Why do _they _have to be the ones to carry out such a task? Why does _he_ have to end up in something like this? Why can't Jade think of any other way to lower the Outer Lands? Why can't the doctor help Tear?

Why does _Tear_ have to be the one to…

He lets out an explosive sigh, his body slumping against the railing, tired and worn out from all that has happened. The shadow of his former self had resurfaced a moment ago, and it does not help that his fatigue and anxiety are beginning to drive him to madness and a mindless game of blame-throwing.

He does not want Tear to die. If he could operate the Rings and accept the contaminated seventh fonons into himself in her stead, he would, and yet, a large part of him does not want to die either. Clenching his fists, he turns to look up at the sky, and, as if cursing the fonstones floating about up there, growls adamantly under his breath, "I don't want _anyone_ to die."

_Anyone…_ He repeats silently. _Especially Tear._

"… M-Master?" A soft, timid voice calls out from behind. Luke spins around immediately and sees Mieu hovering towards him, the cheagle's large eyes uncertain and hesitant.

"What is it?" he asks wearily, wondering if Mieu has been watching him the entire time. He had left the cheagle with Ion about an hour ago at the medical facility, needing to be alone. The Fon Master had wanted to have a check-up himself and Anise, naturally, had also stayed behind.

"Are you okay, Master?"

"Fine," he lies.

Mieu's ears flutter and he drops to the ground, staring up at Luke. "I think Tear's awake," he reports dutifully.

Luke brightens up, straightening his posture. "Really? Has anyone been to see her?"

"Mieu… I don't know. I was waiting outside her room and I think I heard her moving around, so I came to find you, Master. Should I have told the doctor-person?"

"No, I'm sure one of the nurses would have checked on her," responds Luke as he kneels down by the blue and white cheagle.

Holding on to the Sorcerer's Ring, Mieu walks closer to the red-head and says quietly, "Master, don't you want to see her?"

_Should I? _Luke uneasily questions himself in his mind, his fingers absent-mindedly touching Mieu's small head. The cheagle leans into this rare, affectionate motion, almost as if a cat would if its fur was stroked. _I don't know what to say to her…Will she even want to see anyone? Maybe she's still tired. She needs her rest for tomorrow…_

… Tomorrow, when again, they will be forced to poison and slowly kill one of their own.

"Master, that hurts," Mieu's mewl brings him back to reality and he realises he has been holding on to the cheagle's head a little too tightly. Drawing his hand back, he quickly says, "Sorry." An apology still feels strange coming from his mouth.

"Are you going to see Tear?" Mieu asks again.

"… Do you think I should?" He feels stupid asking for advice from a beast but couldn't help saying the words anyway.

"Yup!" Mieu nods at once. "Tear promised she would watch you, Master. You should watch over her, too!"

The cheagle's simple, innocent words make Luke raise his eyebrows. If he had felt stupid before, he feels even stupider now as something clicks into place at the back of his mind.

Of course. Mieu is right. Luke remembers the time in Grand Chokmah when Tear had healed the cut on his cheek—the result of Guy's hidden rage under the influence of the Curse Slot—and drily scolded him about his unnecessary worries. At that time, he had thought that he wanted to be alone to think, but looking back, having her company _had_ been somewhat reassuring and helpful, somehow.

She had kept her word and looked out for him. The least he can do is return the favour. He pictures her sitting in bed, thinking about her condition and future, and the very thought that she is alone unsettles him. Who else is she able to turn to, if not him? Master Van is out of the question, and so is the next person that comes to mind—her former instructor, Legretta.

Standing up, Luke turns to head to the medical facility. "Is Ion still getting checked up?"

"Mieu… No, he and Anise went back to the inn, but Anise said it was okay for me to stay outside Tear's room as long as I didn't let anyone else see me."

Luke doesn't know how anyone could possibly miss a bright blue cheagle roaming about the hallways of a hospital, but as the sacred beast starts to fly after him, he orders, "Go to the inn and keep Ion company, Mieu."

"… Can't I come, too, Master?" The hopeful tone in Mieu's pleading voice makes Luke pause and give him an unexpected, watery smile. "Just go and get some rest," the replica says, this time more firmly.

"Mieu…" The cheagle flutters his ears again in disappointment but obediently flies off towards the direction of the Belkend Inn.

o-o-o-o-o

A nurse walks down the hallway leading from Tear's room just as Luke arrives. She is holding on to a clipboard and he is inwardly relieved that she does not look at all concerned. Seeing him approaching, she addresses him politely, "I'm sorry, sir, but visiting hours ended at seven. Please—" She stops short, her eyes widening. "Oh, you're the young master of House Fabre, are you not? The one who came with the Princess today? My apologies, I have permission from the doctor to allow you in anytime."

"Is Tear okay?" Luke asks, looking at the clipboard.

"Miss Grants is fine at the moment. We have prescribed her some medicine to ease the pain and slow the spread of the contaminated fonons in her body. She's awake, so you may see her if you wish." She gestures towards the door and Luke nods. He walks up to it and places a hand on the handle, glancing at the nurse to see if she is leaving. He doesn't know how sound-proof the wards are and he is not comfortable knowing someone may be outside listening intently to their conversation

The room is dim and tranquil when he looks in, and for a moment, he wonders if Tear has gone back to sleep, but no, with the help of the streetlamps outside and the moonlight, he is able to see her silhouette on the bed. She is sitting on the edge, hands on her lap, staring out the nearby window, but she jerks and turns immediately when she hears him walk in. He isn't completely sure, but he thinks she is actually touching one of the knives she keeps by her thigh. Had she given the nurse the same treatment before?

"Luke…" she says, her stance clearly relaxing and the relief in her voice evident. Against the moonlight, with part of her face covered in the shadows, he cannot help but think how mysteriously beguiling she looks right then. He swallows a strange lump in his throat.

"You're awake," he says without thinking and inwardly kicks himself for such a stupid statement. The rest of his words come out in a rush, as if he wants to hide his embarrassment, "How are you feeling? Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

"I'm okay," Tear answers. She cocks her head to the side slightly and then hesitantly says, "I was fine before, but now I do feel like some milk…"

"… Milk?" Luke involuntarily makes a face. He hates milk but now that he thinks about it, she always seems to enjoy drinking it whenever they have a break during their travels. "Uh… I'm sure I can get some for you," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll just ask one of the—"

"No," she cuts in, shaking her head and picking up the glass of water by her bed. "That's alright. Don't worry about it." He watches silently as she takes a sip of her drink. She puts the glass back on the stand and shifts her attention to the window, effectively preventing him from seeing her countenance.

"Did the doctor tell you about me?" she inquires. He steps closer to her, stopping just by the foot of the bed, and responds softly, "Yeah." He doesn't know what else to say.

"It's strange that the miasma is flowing through the Passage Rings… I'm sorry for being a burden to you and the others, but I'll be strong enough to leave tomorrow. We must head to the other Rings as soon as possible before my broth—"

Maybe it is her tone—neutral, nonchalant and completely unconcerned about the gravity of the situation—that suddenly strikes a chord with Luke. Before he can stop himself, he is reaching for her shoulder and forcing her to look at him, his weariness and helplessness fuelling the vexation and disbelief growing in his heart. "Stop that!" he snaps angrily. "Don't try to act like everything's normal!"

Even in the dimness of the room, he sees from her face that she is surprised at his outburst. She glances at his hand—still on her bare shoulder—and then to his face, her expression unreadable, but she makes no move to shrug off his touch and instead asks, very quietly, "Are you worried about me?"

At her words, his fingers slowly slip away and he is left standing beside her, lost and forlorn, unable to match her level gaze with one of his own. "Of course I'm worried about you," he whispers in exasperation, with all honesty, tightening his fists and looking away, his jaw muscles tensing up. "Jade thinks you are the only one capable of operating the Passage Rings. He doesn't know why, but… I… I'm sorry, Tear…" His annoyance dissipates as quickly as it grew a moment before. "We _have_ to continue lowering the Outer Lands. My uncle… and Emperor Peony… everyone else… they're depending on us. I… I know you're suffering, but…" Luke shuts his eyes. _I wish there's something more I can do, _he silently declares. _But… I can't think of anything. _

"It's okay," Tear murmurs, almost as if she has heard his thoughts. Almost as if she has accepted her fate.

"No, it's not!" he replies indignantly. "I really want to tell you to stop, Tear, but… there's no other way, and we don't have the luxury of time to think of other options, and—"

"Luke." The steady tone in her voice makes him stop and turn to her and he sees that she is watching him carefully, the faintest ghost of a smile on her lips. He can't remember the last time he saw her smile, but how is it that she can still smile in a time like this?

"What?" he mumbles.

"Thank you." Her words catch him off guard and he blinks at her, not understanding at all. She breaks eye contact and brushes away some of her bangs, tucking brown locks behind an ear and saying softly, "I never thought it'd come to this. That day, in my garden, I never thought you'd become the person you are now, but... I'm happy I decided to take the chance. I was right to believe in you. Thank you, Luke."

He doesn't understand why she is saying all this out of the blue, but his surprise and confusion are quickly replaced by an inexplicable agitation. How can she just sit there and speak so calmly when _she is dying?_ "This isn't about me!" he flatly points out and he notices that her arms are stiffening, her body rigid although she is still looking away. "You're acting as if you don't even care about what's happening to you! At least tell me that you're sad or afraid or something! There's no shame in crying or—"

"I'm not going to cry," Tear unexpectedly cuts in almost fiercely. "Crying won't change anything."

"You don't always have to act tough! If you'd just… _talk_ to me, Tear… I can… I can maybe…" He breaks off and has the sudden urge to kick out at the empty bed nearby to vent his frustration at both his and her inability to be eloquent for once. He can what? Offer her comforting words to ease her concern? Fill her head with empty promises he isn't sure he will be able to keep?

When he looks at her again, he sees that she is starting to tremble—shiver, to be precise, like she is cold or just too stubborn to show her true emotions. His gaze softens and, slightly ashamed at his sudden flare-up, he unconsciously reaches out to her, wanting to take her into his arms, to hold her and tell her that everything is going to be alright, the way his mother had done to him so many times when he had been a child.

"It's not an act," says Tear under her breath, her head lowered as if in defeat, and something about the way she speaks makes him think that even _she_ herself does not believe her words. He catches sight of one of her hands clenching the bed sheet tightly, her other palm moving to rest against her chest. His eyes widen. Is she in pain?

"I'm a soldier," she continues quietly. "Death is… _my_ death is not something I haven't thought about. When I came to the Outer Lands… to your manor to kill my brother, I was prepared for death, so I shouldn't be… I didn't think I would… and yet, now, I'm…" Her uncharacteristic incoherence puzzles him but he soon finds out why when she clutches the left side of her chest with a small gasp. The milky white sheet crumples underneath her other fingers as he darts forward to her and kneels down by her side.

"Tear!" he calls, alarmed, holding on to her arms worriedly. "Are you okay? Hang on, I'll call the—" He is already reaching for the button by the bed when her hand stops him.

"No, I'm fine. The medicine's working," she assures him haltingly, her breaths slowly returning to normal. Luke bites his lower lip, studying her without another word to see if she is still in any pain or discomfort. She stares back just as mutely. He does not realise that her gloved fingers remain on his, just by her lap, and that she does not draw them back as well. Perhaps she is unconscious of the fact.

The room is dim, but this close to her, even with the shadows and her hair partly covering her face, he can see the faint, greenish tinge in her sapphire eyes. There is something else in there, too—deep and well-hidden, squeezing through the cracks of her usual persona to resurface only because he knows her well enough by now. Slightly but surely, she still trembles.

_Fear,_ he recognises.

"… I'm a soldier," Tear repeats to him and it is only now that her voice starts to waver. "I shouldn't be afraid of dying… but… Luke, I'm…" _Scared,_ he can almost hear her admit in her head. He knows that she isn't someone who likes to show weakness and somehow, it hurts him, too, seeing her like this.

"No one wants to die," he asserts, his throat as parched as the sands of the Zao Desert. _I don't want you to die. _

Abruptly, she turns away and removes her hand from his, edging further from him. He stands up and takes a step back, suddenly well-aware of how close they had been. "I'm sorry," she whispers an apology, though he wonders why, and then he realises that this is the first time he is hearing a sense of vulnerability in her voice. She masks it well but he can tell. "Thank you for your concern, but I'd like to be alone now."

He sees it then, as clear as the fonstones in the sky—the small, tiny fracture on her shell—and knows that he cannot leave her like this, not when she is finally showing him a side of herself she has always keeps locked away from the rest of the world. He doesn't _want_ to leave her like this—alone and in pain, suffering by herself, terrified of her impending death—and so he simply stands rooted to the floor and staunchly answers, "No. I'm not going anywhere."

"Luke, _please..._" The tone of Tear's voice is low but pleading, fragile. "Please go… I don't want anyone to see me like this..." He has never heard her sound so broken before, and it tugs at something foreign deep within him. It makes him want to curse their fates—Master Van, the Score, the planet's memory, _everything_ that has led them here and will continue to lead them to a possible future without her. Her face is still turned away, but seeing her shaking form is enough to tell him how hard she is trying to keep herself from crumbling to pieces.

Soldiers should never fear death, yet Luke wonders how one is just able to let go of living without second thoughts and readily accept their demise. Living is the essence of being human, after all; there is absolutely no shame in that, and regardless of what he had thought of Tear before Akzeriuth's collapse, she is every bit as human as any other person he knows.

"Then I'll turn around," Luke says obstinately, walking over to the other empty bed and setting himself down with his back to her and crossing his arms. "I'm staying right here."

_With you._

Her breathing is heavy but she is not sobbing or crying. If she is annoyed at his stubbornness, she doesn't show it. In the ensuing silence, however, he can't be sure, but he thinks he hears her murmur, very quietly under her breath, in that usual dry tone of hers, "… You're such an idiot…"

Unexpectedly, he finds the corner of his lips curving up a little.

o-o-o-o-o

_**Love is really nothing,**_

_**But a dream that keeps waking me,**_

_**For all of my trying, we still end up dying,**_

_**How can it be?**_

_**- 'Edge of Desire' by John Mayer-**_

* * *

**A/N: Reviews are much appreciated! **


	2. Empty Sky

**A/N:This final part takes place first at the end of Episode 22, then during Episode 24. It was greatly inspired by Simon Wilcox's _Empty Sky_; I really think the song fits this entire chapter to a T, especially the instrumental and guitar parts. Similar to Part 1, I sort of see the song as being in Luke's point of view.**

**Again, let me know if you spot any errors.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**

* * *

**

**Part Two: Tear – Empty Sky**

_Luke is going to die._

It is all she can think about as she walks aimlessly down the quiet streets of Belkend, passing strangers and running fon machines while still holding on to Mieu. The Sorcerer's Ring is cool against her skin and the cheagle is silent by her chest, as if he himself can sense her state of mind. She finds herself absent-mindedly stroking his long ears, feeling a stubborn lump crawling up the back of her throat and something faintly but insistently prickling behind her eyes.

_Luke is… going to die._

She knows she shouldn't have been hiding by the doorway when Jade and Luke were speaking just now, but something inside her—intuition, perhaps—had held her back when Anise led Guy and Natalia out to get something to eat. Hearing the words directly from Luke's mouth had been a terrible shock to her system. No amount of military training had prepared her for _anything _like this—this strange, suffocating void in the depth of her soul when she thinks about the red-headed replica disappearing from their world—from her _reach_—altogether.

Why does it have to end like this? She had been so relieved to find him standing there at the top of the Tower of Rem after the miasma was destroyed, and now, to discover that after everything, he is still unable to escape from his cruel fate…

Tear squeezes her eyes shut, choking back a stifled sob even as she feels her defences disintegrating away, somehow still hearing, in the dark corners of her mind, the Major's voice chiding her, _"Don't show any weakness!"_

No… She mustn't cry. She mustn't break, for Luke's sake and for hers.

But she is tired… so very tired of keeping her barriers up and having to pretend like nothing is going to happen. Like Luke isn't going to die. She had left her real self frozen behind layers of ice over the years, and yet she doesn't understand how everything can just melt away in a matter of seconds when it comes to him. She doesn't _care _about not understanding. All she knows is that Luke is going to disappear and there is apparently nothing any of them can do for him.

"Tear…" She hears Mieu call her faintly, wriggling in her grasp to look up at her. Inhaling deeply, she automatically replies, though rather unconvincingly, "I'm alright."

"Please don't cry. I know you're worried about Master," the cheagle timidly says. She slows down her steps and stops by a bench overlooking the lower parts of the city, setting him down gently and taking a seat beside him. He stares at her with large, expressive eyes, clearly troubled by the same reason she is.

"I'm not crying," Tear objects, shaking her head. _Crying won't change anything—_it is a mantra that had been drilled deep into her brain during her early teenage years.

"But… but you're suffering…"

"… Luke's suffering, too."

"Mieu…" The cheagle's ears lower and he turns to look at the ground, downcast and saddened. "I… If only I could disappear in Master's place… I would do it, Tear! I love Master... I don't want him to—"

"Don't say things like that, Mieu," Tear hastily cuts in, resting a hand on the sacred beast's head. She isn't one for superstition but she doesn't like the idea of any of them dying. "I don't want anyone to disappear," she says softly and honestly.

Mieu can't quite reach her hand with his own, so he patters over to her and jumps into her lap, where her other hand holds him close. It is strange, but having the cheagle with her is comforting.

"… I wish there was something more we could do," she says with a sigh, reaching up to rub the bridge of her nose and the area between her eyes. A nagging headache is starting to nestle between her brain and her skull. She has experienced facing her own mortality in the not so distant past, and although she had tried her best to hide it, death was—and still is—something she fears. The thought of Luke going through all this alone _hurts_, somehow, and then there is the imminent question of when he is actually going to…

… What if he disappears tomorrow? Her heart turns cold. What if he disappears tonight, in his room, while everyone else is asleep? The Colonel himself has said that it's impossible for Luke to still be alive now… What if he's disappearing this very moment, while she is sitting here on this bench and worrying about him?

"Tear, are you cold? Maybe we should go back," says Mieu.

She looks at him, then realises she is actually shaking slightly. Her eyebrows arch down in a frown and she suddenly clenches her fists, willing herself steady. What is she doing? She isn't the one who's going to die. She must be strong. Luke himself has accepted his fate, understanding that there is still much to be done. Lorelai is still trapped, though they do not know where and how to free it. Millions of lives are depending on their actions. This isn't the time to let her emotions get the better of her. She must not break.

"Mieu, don't tell the others about what we heard, okay?"

"Mieuuu..." The cheagle's ears flutter in dismay. "Why not? They're Master's friends, aren't they? Won't they want to know?"

"_We_ weren't even supposed to know. It's Luke's decision whether he wants to tell us or not… and we have to respect that," Tear answers, dejected. Though she knows it was wrong, she still can't bring herself to feel guilty for overhearing the conversation between Luke and the Colonel.

"… Okay," Mieu finally agrees reluctantly. She gives him a pet and gets up, heading back the way she came, gazing up at the evening sky. Grey clouds loom in the distance, the moon coming faintly into sight, and as Tear plods along to the inn, she cannot help but wonder if Yulia Jue—despite the existence of replicas now—had ever glimpsed a future like this when she read the Score.

o-o-o-o-o

Maybe it has been denial that has kept her going for this long without saying a word to him, or maybe she is just very proficient at slipping on her second skin no matter the situation. Regardless, seeing Luke in agony and clutching at his hand—his fingers had been _fading_, like a mirage on a hot day—is enough to chip away the walls she has carefully erected. Kneeling by him, Tear watches anxiously as he recovers from the sudden attack. He has told her that the pain was stopping, but the grimace on his face makes her wonder otherwise. His grunts of discomfort echo in the large, empty main hall of the Daath Cathedral. Mieu is hovering near them in concern.

"Are you sure you don't want the Colonel?" she asks worriedly. "If you tell him… perhaps he can—"

"No." Luke shakes his head. "Jade may have invented Fomicry, but even he can't fix this. Don't worry, I'm okay now." He proves it by raising his hand and flexing his fingers gingerly, the relief in his green eyes apparent. Then he looks at her in alarm. "But… how did you know about my condition?"

Her forehead furrows unhappily and she finds herself turning away, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry. I overheard you talking with the Colonel that night," she admits. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop… but something about you just didn't seem quite right with me at that time…"

"I heard everything, too, Master. I'm sorry…" Mieu says miserably, landing on the floor and walking up to Luke, who merely gives him a thin smile.

"That's okay," he says, looking back at Tear. "It feels a little better knowing that I don't have to hide it from you, but… please, keep it away from the others, okay?"

"But Master, why?" Mieu asks, sounding almost indignant—unexpected words and emotions from such a small creature, surprising both Tear and Luke. "Aren't they your friends?"

Luke rests a hand on the impassioned cheagle's head, as if in an effort to soothe his distress, and quietly says, "Of course they are, but telling them won't change what's happening to me. If they find out, they'd start worrying and treating me differently, and… well, I don't want that."

Tear says nothing, watching as he stands up and wriggles his fingers again, like he wants to make sure everything is in tact before he continues. "I want to enjoy the time I have left with everyone," he states simply and glances at her. It is but a short, fleeting look, yet she can tell he is forcing himself to sound brave, to jump off that cliff even though the very thought of being on the edge scares him. A part of her empathises with him—after all, she knows all too well what it feels like to await your death—but the larger part of herself wants to yell at him for sounding so beaten and defeated. For resigning himself to his fate and giving up trying to change it.

"Tear, promise me you won't say anything to the others," Luke insists rather sharply, raking a hand in his hair and scratching behind his ear. His actions seem to belie his words and it is almost as if he is embarrassed by this situation.

She will make no such vow. She has kept her feelings from showing all this time and despite all her training, this is the last straw. When she opens her mouth, it is to scream in frustration and anger at his attitude, but then she suddenly stops.

He has turned his back to her and looked away, but no amount of courageous words and bravado can hide the fact that his body is beginning to quiver, his arms shaking as they hang by his sides.

"Luke, you're trembling," she says hoarsely, reaching out to him as he lets out a low, bitter chuckle. _How can you laugh at a time like this?_ She has the urge to punch him in anguish and despair.

"… I'm such a coward." His voice is tearful and hollow. "I thought that… that at least I could pretend that everything's fine when I'm with you and the others, but I can't even pull off something like that. I guess I really am just a second-rate copy, after all…"

"You idiot! Don't say that!" Tear cries out, moving to him and laying her hands on his broad back, her emotional inhibitors breaking down in an instant. She shuts her eyes, feeling the familiar prickle of suppressed tears behind them, and says angrily to him, "If you're scared, then just say so! It doesn't make you any less of the person you are! You don't have to act like everything's normal… You don't have to go through this alone…"

Even as she speaks, she realises how hypocritical she is sounding, for isn't that what he himself had asked of her, that night in the Belkend medical facility when they all found out about the miasma in her body? And yet she cannot bring herself to care about it. Luke isn't her. He had not been brought up as she had. He is the boy who wears his heart on his sleeve, the boy who speaks his mind and fights fiercely for his own beliefs. He is the boy she never thought would be able to redeem himself for his past sins and be the man he is now today.

He is the boy she…

Luke still shakes underneath her touch and she finds herself gripping his coat firmly, breathing hard. "No one wants to die," she whispers very quietly—hadn't that been his very own words?—suddenly drained of all her energy. _I… don't want you to die. _"I'm here for you, Luke..." _I don't want you to die. _"I'm here _with _you…" She leans into him, into his welcoming heat.

He relaxes, somehow, his head bowed down, and she finds herself biting back a sob threatening to overwhelm her. _Crying won't change anything, _she says vehemently to herself._ Crying won't change __**anything.**_

The words echo thunderously in her mind, and she doesn't know how much time has passed as they continue to stand there like that. When Luke turns around and catches hold of her hand, she remembers looking into his warm, emerald eyes and wondering how exactly he is able to strip her of all her defences and armour by simply being _him._ When he draws her in and kisses her, she remembers not being surprised at all, but thinking, _admitting,_ finally—somewhere in the deep, faraway depths of her hazy head—that maybe, just maybe, he is the boy she has come to love.

His lips are warm and pleasant, like the feeling of seventh fonons when she heals herself. She has never done anything like this with anyone else before, but it is unexpectedly easy to let instinct take over and guide her as she reaches up to touch his hair, his neck, his chest. She has never touched him in those places before, and she longs to feel more.

As sudden as it began, they break off and she is left light-headed with short, quick breaths, her cheeks hot. Luke himself is panting softly. If he is taken aback by the fact that she did not resist him, he does not show it, but he looks at her with sad, yearning eyes, as if he is fighting an inner battle—wanting to resume where they had left off, or wondering if what they are intending to do will only lead to more pain. He murmurs hesitantly, "Tear… I…"

For the first time in the past five and a half years, Tear surrenders herself readily to her emotions. She lifts a finger to his mouth and he stops. Glancing around—thank Yulia the Cathedral is mostly deserted at this time of the day and that the others have not stumbled upon them—she takes his hand and tugs him towards one of the corners of the hall, where a door and hallway leading to the many prayer rooms on the west wings are located. Her heartbeat booms deafeningly in her ears and her head is haywire with a million thoughts spinning around in an endless vortex.

"Mieu… Master, where are you going?" Mieu asks in puzzlement as he hovers after them and Tear privately reprimands herself for forgetting his presence. No doubt the cheagle had watched their exchange and is confused by their behaviour—he is, after all, unfamiliar with a lot of human conduct and manners.

"Stay here," Luke orders, albeit absently, and Mieu slows down to a halt, clearly disappointed but compliant.

With her cloudy mind, Tear doesn't know how she is still able to recall the layout of the Cathedral and navigate through the hallways to finally find a small, empty room used to store choir stands, musical books and prayer books and scrolls. They enter silently and when Luke presses her back against the door and claims her lips ardently, his fingers tangling in her brown hair, she submits willingly because this is what she wants and she lets herself submerge and sink into that whirlpool of contentment and desire in her heart. Stupidly, in the back of her mind, she remembers faintly wondering if—in the presence of so many holy symbols and objects around them—what they are doing would be considered blasphemy.

Luke holds her delicately, like he is afraid she will break under him if he is not careful. As their mouths slip away to take in much-needed gulps of air, she buries her head into his chest, her hands clenching his ivory coat tightly, his own arms wrapping gently around her and his chin resting on the top of her head. The last block of the dam in her heart crumbles into pieces, washed away by both his and her emotions and their passion. If this is the only moment they will have, then so be it. For once in her life, she wants to just let go and not care about their responsibilities and their duties, their mission and their futures. Her façade, and _his death. _

Crying will not change anything, but standing there in that dim, musty room in the heart of Daath's Cathedral, in the arms of a dying replica, Tear Grants cannot help but shut her eyes and cry her heart out.

o-o-o-o-o

_**You see the skies are empty tonight,**_

_**But I'll surround you when you're lonely,**_

_**And you'll believe in things that you can't see,**_

_**Like air and faith, and sometimes me.**_

_**-'Empty Sky' by Simon Wilcox-**_

_**

* * *

**_**A/N: LUKE X TEAR FOREVER! **

**I will be completely honest, I actually considered writing a sex scene in this chapter, but I remember reading somewhere that Tear is actually not even sixteen at this point of time, and... well, I'd rather avoid statutory rape (though I heard the age of consent in Japan is 13?). Anyway, I left the ending ambiguous on purpose.****  
**


End file.
